


blow us all away

by writergirl8



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 08:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5701024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writergirl8/pseuds/writergirl8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Could you do some parenting Stydia? Possibly? Maybe?</p>
            </blockquote>





	blow us all away

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Dear Theodosia from Hamilton!

Chewie barks to announce the arrival of someone at the door before the bell has even rung.

"Did you invite a friend over?" Lydia asks condescendingly. She's cross-legged on the couch, hair thrown over one shoulder as she leans over an essay that she's grading.

"Not this time," Stiles says, frowning from the armchair. "Is that not for you?"

"Nope." Lydia shrugs and pushes up her black glasses. "And I call not it, by the way."

"Goddamn it," Stiles grumbles, pushing off of his chair and heading over to the door. "You're going next time," he adds, hand on the knob.

"Seems unlikely," Lydia muses towards the ceiling, and Stiles offers her one disdained look before pulling open the door.

He has to look down to see the ten-year-old who is standing on his porch. She's got her thumbs tucked determinedly into her pink backpack, and her long, dark hair is pulled into a ponytail. When she looks up at Stiles, it's Scott's eyes that meet his— albeit this stare is far more stubborn than the one Stiles usually sees in Scott.

"Mira?" says Stiles, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm running away," she says decisively, hitching her backpack higher on her shoulders. "Can I come live with you and Auntie Lydia?"

He glances over his shoulder, to the hallway that leads to the family room. Lydia appears a moment later, her book held to her chest. Her confusion only grows when she sees their neice, standing there with a lip wobbling with determination.

"Mira?" says Lydia, voice tentative. "How did you get here?"

"Shai drove me."

"Why did Shai drive you?"

"Because I told her I wanted to run away." Yep, that sounds like Shai. "Uncle Stiles, Auntie Lydia, can I _please_ live with you?"

He's about to scream in protest, because he can't even begin to think about how damaging that would be for their sex life, but Lydia crouches down in front of Mira and opens her arms.

"Of course you can move in with us," she says gently. "Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take care of everything."

Mir brightens, a beam stretching across her face. She walks into the house, right into Lydia's arms, and Stiles closes the door behind her, throwing Lydia a befuddled glance.

"Where's Chewie?" asks Mira, bouncing out of the hug.

"He's asleep in front of the fireplace," Lydia says. "Why don't you go wake him up?"

Lydia has barely finished her sentence before the little girl bounds into the family room, already cooing in delight at the prospect of seeing their dog.

"Uh, are you planning on kidnapping Scott's child?" Stiles asks his wife. "Cuz if you wanted kids, you should have told me before your eggs dried up."

She smacks him on the arm, then throws him a look of warning.

"No, she's not going to live with us," Lydia says, looking at him like he's an idiot. "Can you imagine how damaging that would be for our sex life?"

"The thought never even crossed my mind," Stiles lies, dignified.

"We're going to figure out why she's upset, tell Scott so that he can fix it, and then make her eat broccoli and do chores until she realizes that her mother is an actual saint and begs to go home."

"Ah— very tricky," Stiles says, admiring her. Lydia takes off her glasses, folds them, and puts them on the front hall table.

"Do us all a favor text Scott to tell him she's safe."

"Do you think he's gonna ground Shai?"

"No, of course not."

"Right."

"I think Izzy's going to have to do it."

Stiles snickers.

"Good point. Okay, game face on."

Lydia nods importantly, and he follows her into the living room. Mira is stretched out on the floor, her backpack thrown to the side as she rubs Chewie's belly.

"So, Mira," says Lydia, sitting down on the couch. "What happened? Why did you decide to live with us?"

Stiles settles onto the couch next to Lydia, his legs spread out, his arm slung on the upholstery behind Lydia's shoulders.

"Everybody likes Eli better than me," Mira says, scrunching up her nose. Her eyes don't leave the dog, who is wiggling and trembling happily at his belly-rub. "So I decided to go somewhere where there weren't any babies. I _hate_ babies," she adds, looking up at the two of them for the first time.

"You and Aunt Lydia have that in common," Stiles tells her brightly. Lydia elbows him hard in the side. "Mira, did you ever think that your mom and dad aren't paying as much attention to you because you're getting older and you're getting too big to need them all the time?"

She tucks her chin towards her throat, eyes travelling up the wall and to the ceiling.

"Your mom has to accept that you're too independent for her," Lydia continues for him, rescuing it. "So she's trying to pay more attention to the baby so that you won't feel like she's coddling you. Because you're just too grown up to be coddled. She's respecting that."

Mira crosses her arms over her chest.

"Well I still don't want to live with them," she says. "Eli cries _all_ the time. It's never quiet in my room anymore, and he keeps _bugging_ me."

"It's okay," says Lydia. "You can live with us now."

"Right!" confirms Stiles. "I mean, you're gonna have to do some of the chores, of course. Just, like, pitch in around the house. Normal stuff."

"You can make dinner!" Lydia says, clapping her hands. "Oh, wait, no, Uncle Stiles already did that. It's poached salmon with rice and cauliflower."

"Salmon?"

"Fish," says Stiles, wiggling his fingers for dramatic effect. "Yum."

They don't actually have salmon in the house, because Lydia hates it, but Mira definitely doesn't need to know that.

"Can I have spaghetti?" she asks hopefully.

"Mira, if you're old enough to live away from your parents, you're old enough to eat fish," Lydia tells her sternly. "Would you mind making your own bed, though? Chewie sleeps in our guest room, so you're going to have to sleep out here on the couch."

"And then you'll have to clean up the sheets every morning."

"Anything else would seriously put Chewie out," Lydia finishes, nodding.

"O...okay," Mira says slowly, glaring at the puppy. He licks her hand and she wrinkles her nose.

"And you're okay with walking to school, right?" Stiles asks. "Cuz I go to work at 5am, and your Aunt Lydia basically lounges around the house doing nothing all day, so neither of us are going to be able to give you rides."

"Can Shai give me rides?" Mira asks hopefully.

"If you're old enough to live away from your parents, you're definitely old enough to spend two hours walking to school," says Lydia. "Oh, Stiles, did you just get a text from Scott?"

He fishes his phone out of his pocket, then looks at his dark screen.

"Oh, man!" he says. "Look at that! So he did."

Lydia pretends to inspect the screen.

"He invited us over for dinner," she says. "Oh, but we can't go. That's too awkward if you're going to come live with us now."

"But Lyds," Stiles whines. "It's mac and cheese!"

Mira perks up.

"Can we go?"

Lydia glares at Stiles.

"No," he says, dejected. "I suppose it's better that we don't."

Mira pauses, hesitating.

"What if you were dropping me off?" she asks. "Then could we have mac and cheese?"

"Why would we bring you to your mom and dad's house?" asks Lydia.

"Don't you live here now?" Stiles questions.

Mira breathes in deeply, preparing herself.

"I just realized that I forgot to say goodbye to Maxie," she says. "And, to be honest, I don't know if he would be okay with me moving. Who else would scratch his chin? Shai is busy, Brie's at college, and mommy and daddy are with Eli all the time. Max needs me."

"Well," Lydia says slowly. "I guess we could drive you back."

"If it really means that much to you," Stiles affirms, hanging his head slightly. Mira scurries up to him and kisses him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Uncle Stiles!"

"Don't forget your backpack!" Lydia says to her. "Why don't you run to the car? We're right behind you."

She pulls out her phone as soon as Mira's out of the room.

"Nice work, Mrs. Stilinski," says Stiles. "What next?"

"Izzy has to make mac and cheese or else this whole shindig is going to fall apart," Lydia reminds him. "You distract Mira, I'll call Iz."

"Let's see," Stiles muses, "how to distract a ten-year-old… is she too young for darach stories?"

" _Yes_ ," Lydia says emphatically.

"Damn. I'm out."

She rolls her eyes at him.

"That kid has the willpower of… well, her dad."

Stiles grins.

"I know, right?"

"She's going to do incredible things," Lydia says softly, starting to dial. "We raised her well."

Stiles presses a kiss her temple, and she leans into him.

"We sure did," he agrees. "You're welcome, Scott. Parenting done right."


End file.
